Future Me, Are You Listening?

Is there ever a "right" time for anything?

There's a phrase I've heard countless times: "right person, wrong time". It's a phrase that has stuck with me, both because of its simplicity and because of its capacity to explain so many of life's disappointments. We hear it when relationships falter, when opportunities slip through our fingers, or when we look back at something that didn't quite work out and try to make sense of it. It's the comforting excuse we offer ourselves when we need to believe that if circumstances had been just a little different, things would've turned out better. But it makes me wonder: is there really such a thing as the "right time"? Does timing ever align perfectly with the things we want, or is this search for the right moment just another way to cope with uncertainty?

I remember, vividly, the stress I carried in one of my past relationships. I was young, nervous, and constantly overthinking every little thing, especially about when certain "milestones" should happen. I dreaded the thought of my first kiss. When would be the right time? Should I wait for some kind of sign, a perfect moment where the universe would let me know, "This is it"? The pressure I placed on myself was overwhelming. I wanted everything to feel right, as if there was some magical formula that would tell me exactly when I should take that next step.

But that moment never came in the way I imagined. In fact, when it did happen, it didn't feel like the right time at all. I was anxious, overthinking every second leading up to it, and afterward, I was left with a sense of confusion rather than elation. The same thing happened when I eventually ended that relationship. I agonized over the timing for weeks—when to break the news, how to do it in the least painful way. I thought, maybe if I just waited for the right moment, everything would go smoother. Maybe I would just know when the time was right, and I could avoid hurting them too deeply.

But the truth is, that moment never arrived either. There was no perfect timing, no clear signal from the universe. I ended the relationship when I could no longer carry the weight of my doubts, and even then, it didn't feel like the right time. It felt rushed, messy, and painful. It wasn't a clean break, and it left both of us with unanswered questions.

Looking back, I now wonder: was I chasing an illusion? Was I putting too much pressure on the idea that the right time would make difficult things easier? And if that's the case, was there ever a "right" time at all?

I think about this a lot. It's something I've carried into other aspects of my life, too—not just relationships. When to take a leap, when to move forward, when to let go of something or someone. Timing is something we're told to pay attention to from an early age. "Wait until the time is right." "Don't rush things." "Timing is everything." We hear it all the time, as if life is a series of perfectly orchestrated moments, and if we miss one, we've lost our chance. But is that really how life works?

The more I've lived, the more I've realized that life rarely, if ever, follows the script we expect it to. The moments we spend waiting for everything to align—the right time, the right place, the right person—often pass us by while we're still waiting. Sometimes, the fear of acting at the wrong time stops us from acting at all, leaving us frozen in place, hoping that some external sign will give us permission to move forward. But what if that sign never comes? What if we're waiting for something that doesn't exist?

Our obsession with timing can be linked to the need for control. Human beings have an innate desire to make sense of the chaos around us, to believe that things happen for a reason and that we have some degree of agency over the outcomes of our lives. The concept of the "right time" feeds into this desire, giving us the illusion that if we can just figure out the right moment, we can avoid pain, discomfort, or regret. It's comforting to think that timing holds the key to our happiness, that if we just wait a little longer or act a little sooner, everything will fall into place.

But life isn't so neatly organized. There's a randomness to it, an unpredictability that we can never fully escape. Timing doesn't always cooperate with our plans. Sometimes, the person who feels right comes along at the wrong time in our lives, when we're not ready, when we're carrying too much baggage, or when our paths are headed in different directions. And even if they are the "right" person, there's no guarantee that things will work out. Timing can be cruel like that.

I remember the feeling of being completely overwhelmed by my own thoughts during that relationship—constantly second-guessing myself, wondering if I was doing things too soon or waiting too long. It was exhausting. In the end, it wasn't timing that ended things. It was a realization that I wasn't where I needed to be emotionally, that no amount of waiting for the "right time" could fix what wasn't working between us.

This brings me back to the original question: is there ever a right time for anything?

I'm starting to think the answer is no—or at least, not in the way we often imagine. There may never be a perfect time to kiss someone, to end a relationship, to move to a new city, or to take a leap of faith in any area of life. Waiting for the right moment can sometimes be a form of procrastination, a way of avoiding the uncomfortable truth that life's big decisions rarely feel clean or easy. They are messy, complicated, and often happen when we're least prepared for them.

But maybe that's okay. Maybe the idea of a "right time" is less about waiting for some external validation and more about trusting ourselves to handle whatever comes our way, even if the timing isn't perfect. Maybe it's about understanding that life will always have uncertainties and that we can't plan our way around them.

I think about my younger self, agonizing over when to kiss someone, when to say goodbye, when to move on. I wish I could go back and tell her: it's okay. There's no magic moment when everything will feel exactly right. And that's not because you're doing something wrong. It's just how life works. You're not supposed to have all the answers or to know exactly when to act. Sometimes, the timing will feel off, and that's okay. The important thing is that you're moving forward, making choices, and learning as you go.

The fear of timing, I think, often stems from the fear of making mistakes. We tell ourselves that if we act too soon or too late, we'll mess things up beyond repair. But in reality, most of life's decisions aren't as irreversible as we make them out to be. Yes, there are consequences, and yes, some things can't be undone. But more often than not, we have more flexibility than we give ourselves credit for. The "wrong time" doesn't necessarily mean the "wrong choice". Sometimes, it just means we have to adjust, to be willing to adapt to the unexpected, to accept that we're doing the best we can with the information we have at the moment.

So, is there ever a right time for anything? I'm not sure. But what I do know is that waiting for the perfect moment is often a way of avoiding life's inherent messiness. And maybe that's the lesson: that there is no "right" time in the way we imagine it. There's only the time we have now, the choices we make with the knowledge and feelings we have at this moment. And that's enough.

To my past self, I would say: don't stress so much about timing. Don't wait for life to give you permission to act. Trust yourself to navigate the messiness, to learn from the mistakes, and to keep moving forward, even when the timing doesn't feel perfect. Because the truth is, life rarely feels perfectly timed—but that doesn't mean it's not worth living.